


The Pursuit of Happiness

by ghostbustas



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, also kevin has a boyfriend and his name is stewart, and holtzmann and kevin and stewart are besties, character death all that jazz, its kinda graphic first chapter so you can skip past if you want, its kinda lighthearted at times i guess, ps erins dead whoops, so have fun?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-27 17:13:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7627018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostbustas/pseuds/ghostbustas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erin Gilbert dies on a normal job. Jillian Holtzmann dedicates her life to finding her. Kevin is inadvertently smart, and the other two ghostbusters are very overwhelmed.<br/>The vortex is easy to get through, if you've got a smart enough engineer working on the job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is very very graphic. Contains character death (Erin sorry) and can be skipped over without missing any plot. Sorry in advance if the formatting is weird, this is my first fic on this site so it'd be really nice if you could please let me know so I can edit it or something.  
> ~E

Benny never shows up with the Chinese food, and no one from Zhu’s Authentic Hong Kong food has picked up the phone. “Where are my wontons?” Abby grabs the phone from Kevin’s desk and smashes her fingers into the receiver. Kevin stares at her, looking up from a tottering stack of pringles on his desk. “I forgot them,” he smiles, and Abby rolls her eyes. “I’m sure you forgot something, but it sure wasn’t the wontons,” she growls as the dial tone chirps in her ear. “I doubt calling them makes them come faster,” Holtzmann says from behind wires. “The chinese food always arrives.” The other grumbles, and slams the phone back into place. “It has been two hours since I ordered those wontons. Benny better have the perfect number or I don’t know what I’ll do,” she throws her hands up and returns to her desk. Holtzmann shrugs, shoulders edging over the top of the pile. “If you so worried about it, why don’t you just go get them?” Patty says, head hovering over a stack of decomposing papers. “Well it shouldn't my job to check on my takeout,” Abby retorts, making her way to the firehouse phone. The tallest Ghostbuster shrugs and returns her full attention to the yellowed papers.

The faded red and yellow walls of Zhu’s greet Abby’s eyes as she pulls up to the curb. Of course, the owners had neglected to repaint Holtzmann’s “NO PARKING ANYTIME” spraypaint. The "FOR RENT" sign was still there. They never did take that down. Abby grumbles about parking and delivery boys as she opens the push door into the restaurant. Inside, red square tables and padded chairs are completely devoid of customers. It is three in the afternoon. All the chairs are strewn around tables, some knocked over and others far from their places. Dishes left with dumplings, half eaten bowls of rice and massive amounts of greasy meat fill the room. “Well at least I know I’m not the only one neglected right now,” she says, pushing the door open to the kitchen. It’s the same as the dining area, with burners still lit and food charring in their pans.

She turns them off, and immediately ducks under the cooking appliances. In the far corner, closest to the bathroom, a ghost leaves a trail of ectoplasm and spectral water. “Oh that is not good,” Abby whispers and crawls through the restaurant. A smell of rotting fish and sewage fills the room, consuming her nose. At the smell her eyes burn and tear up as she raises a hand to block the stench and tries avoid gagging. She rattles on the handles, left hand covering her nose. “What kind of door doesn’t open from the inside,” she grumbles, slamming her shoulder into it. “Ok Abby, think think,” she mutters as she backs away from it. In white letters “PU” and then some illegible other two letters sit above the handle. She pulls in on it, and the door to the dingy chinese joint swung open. “YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!” She yells, hands fumbling with the keys to the hearse. The vehicle chirps back in greeting as she hops in.

Half an hour later, the Ghostbusters hearse returns to the same spot, only with a few more occupants. Holtzmann rolls out the proton packs, as the group strides into the door. “Oh god you were not kidding about the smell,” Erin murmurs as her nose twists. “It smells like someone drowned a cat and then left it on the sidewalk for three days.” Holtzmann agrees, waggling her eyebrows, “There was one on my block once.” Patty frowns and raises her eyebrows at the engineer, “You know what? I don’t want to know the story behind that one.” Holtzmann smiles and throws up her hair into the air. “Let me tell you, that’s quite the story,” she begins. Patty grumbles and narrows her eyes. “What part of I don’t want to hear the story don’t you understand?” she says, as the four traverse the decimated restaurant. The cloying smell painted the whole restaurant as the four continue into the kitchen. The ghost turns toward them, transparent bloodstains and gashes on his shirt. His face, bloated and sagging had pieces missing where the fish had taken a bite. A nightmarish screech sounds as it lashes out toward the group. The spectre advances toward Erin, who scrambles up the steps. There is no one upstairs, only the booths left there and a few things they left behind in the move to the firehouse. Boots echo behind her as the rest of the team tries to follow.

Erin levels her proton blasters at the bloated thing, and fires. The machine kicks back, throwing up a thick yellow stream into the air. She continues firing as it dodges her every shot. Her yells fill the room, howling like a cornered animal. Holtzmann dashes up the stairs, and reaches just in time to see the beast seize the lone ghostbuster. Like the other two people who had gone through, Erin crashes through the second story window. Holtzmann screams, extending an arm to her. She feels Erin's fingers tickling the insides of her's to hear the screams fade further away. “ERIN!” She shrieks, and perches up on the ledge, boots halfway over the windowsill. “Holtzy!” Patty wraps her arms around the smaller woman and lifts her up and into the building. “I HAVE TO GO GET HER!” Holtzmann roars, struggling against the much bigger woman. She kicks and hits her friend with closed fists and heartbreak.“ABBY?” She screams again, flailing harder against her captor, head tossing and fists flailing. Abby is gone too.“Holtzy,” Patty grunts, heaving her friend higher in the air. “HOLTZY LISTEN TO ME!” Patty throws her to the ground, leaving the struggling woman to stare at her. “Holtzmann, relax,” she sighs, as Holtzmann’s eyes flit around the room in fear. “We have to go downstairs now baby, can you do that?” Holtzmann's knees shake with the same force as her mind crumbles in it's foundation. Her feet slurp through the mess of ectoplasm. “Holtzmann hang in there for a second, ok?” The older ghostbuster wraps her arm around the others waist, and the two pull open to door to the light.

Holtzmann throws up on the ground at the sight. Erin lays in a pool of blood, far larger than her body. The blood drips into cracks, spreading a net of blood and death around her. “No,” she murmurs, and falls to the ground. There’s a crack as her forehead meets the pavement, mixing her blood with that of the other. Patty’s eyes widen and she picks her friend up again. “Girl you have got to stop doing that,” she says, eyes red from tears and face wet with sadness. Abigail Yates just stares into the heart of the web as if she see the world through it. “Erin,” she mumbles, and does not stop staring. She stays there, even after paramedics have taken her friend away on a clean hospital bed in a black bag. Paramedics ask her questions about her house and her favorite sitcom. The black bag is right next to her.   
The funeral is busy. Even if they were heralded as frauds, people still adored the ghostbusters. New York citizens, Colombia University staff, her family, friends all filled the funeral home. It is Holtzmann’s first time driving the hearse as an actual hearse. Behind them, police officers, hundreds of people follow through the streets. Holtzmann drives, sure to avoid every pothole and watch for every sign of danger. Her goggles accumulate drops on the lenses, none of which she wipes off. Beside her, Abby stares into the street, her eyes bloodshot but without any tears to follow the,. Patty makes no sounds from the backseat as Holtzmann rolls up with window. There are too many people screaming for them, too many shouting at their famous hearse to deal with. Some heckle, throwing assorted shoes while some stare at the hearse in disbelief. The mayor follows, his assistant crying a few tears from the loss.

Patty's uncle’s funeral home is small. Outside the cemetery, people gather for blocks. Inside, walls harbor shadows of the past. Erin’s parents are greeting the guests, shaking hands with trembling fingers. Holtzmann watches them as she continues to accept condolences. The black of her tuxedo becomes darker with tears as the ceremony progresses. She does not shake anyone’s hand. Both her hands are white knuckled around a box. The engineer fakes smiles and nods and thanks people, eyes never looking into theirs.   
Patty wanders around the room, faded away. She smiles and jokes and waxes poetic about her friend while everyone around her tries not to break. Her small smiles and her sassy comments about her friend makes several guests smile, if only for a moment. Her uncle stares at her from the corner watching how she cries only on the inside. Of course it’s a closed casket funeral given the circumstances and the guests around. She had managed to secure a beautiful coffin, adorned with flowers of all kinds. Someone brought laurels. Another brought handfuls of white petals picked to spread around the floor. A few had scattered and trampled across the room. Patty tries her best to pick those up and throw them away.

Abby spends the entire service in the middle of the room. She does not pay attention to Patty's hugs, or Erin's parents smiles. Patty tries to get her to present the flowers she brought, but she can't get close. Even Holtzmann can’t seem to make her look away. She only follows the casket out to the grave. She’s aware of someone making some sort of speech in her place. They had asked her but she didn’t respond, only returned to her work. It speaks of her endless kindness, curiosity and her contributions to the scientific field. It even goes so far to thank her for the saving of New York, despite the cringing face of the mayor’s assistant. Abby is not paying much attention. She’s far too busy staring at the coffin and imagining her friend’s face

The casket lowers, and falls out of the ghostbusters’ view


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway, this is one of the most lighthearted chapters, so enjoy my friends.

Shoot the thing, Abby!” Patty shrieks, attempting to pin down a hooded ghost shrouded in white. “I’m trying!” Abby yells, swinging the proton stream around the room. "Holtzmann, right about now would be a nice time for a trap!” The engineer grunts, and kicks the trap out into the middle of the church floor. “Ok Abby join up with Patty to try to guide it down,” she yelled, “Erin-” She stops mid sentence, blinking. She looked around for a second, searching the room. “HOLTZMANN!” Patty wails, tugging on her proton blaster to pull the apparition to the ground. Abby grabs hold of it, and the two wrestle with it. “I told you to put that trap up!” Abby yells, “This thing is gonna fly us home to the firehouse if you don’t set up that trap!” The blonde blinks, and the trap opens. The ghoul lowers into the trap, piercing shrieks echoing through the building. The noise shakes the organ pipes to make inharmonious clanging. The ghost tries to keep itself from falling in, propping its upper half up with elongated hands. “LET GO OF THE TRAP DEMON!” Patty screams, advancing forward to increase the pressure. “I SAID LET GO!” She pushes it downward, and the trap snaps closed. “Damn it Holtz, what was that?” Abby grumbles, “Any later and I would've been praying to the Virgin Mary.” Holtzmann shrugs, and picks up the trap. “Sorry,” she mumbles, head tucked into her shoulder. “Look I love you and all but let me tell you, if I get flown away by some dead nun Imma be upset,” Patty huffs. Again, Holtzmann shrugs, chin tucked back just a little.

The firehouse doors open and the three pull in. They file out without a sound, grabbing gear out of the back and taking the ghost can. “Holtzmann,” Abby calls out, jogging to catch up to the other. “Yes, Abby?” Holtzmann asks, heading to the containment system. “Holtzmann if you need a few days off we can give you that,” she says, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I don't need a day off,” she grunts, and continues walking. “I mean, you did loose your,” Abby stops halfway through her sentence, “You know.” Holtzmann grunts and smiles, “Oh who, me? I’m fine, just need to put the finishing touches on one of my new toys.” Abby raises an eyebrow and stops walking. “I might not be an engineer, but I'm no fool, “ she says. “I know you Holtzmann.”

Holtzmann puts the trap down into the extractor. It descends into the machine, and lets out a noxious burst of steam. She sighs, and removes it, setting it on the desk piled high with them. “Gotta go to work, gonna go to work,” she sings, bouncing up the stairs two at a time. Abby and Patty exchange a glance, and Abby shakes her head. “I don’t think she’s ok,” Patty says, and stands up, “I’m gonna go check up on her.” Abby nods, and follows her up the stairs. Kevin glances up at them from his doodling as they ascend. “Holtzmann's been weird lately,” he mumbles, drawing ghosts and stick figures all over.

The second floor has a layer of discarded papers, charred metal and tools over the floor. “Where does she even get this stuff,” Patty asks, “I’m pretty sure we never buy our own metal.” Abby huffs, eyes shifting around, “I stopped asking after she told me that it was her surprise.” From the window panes, huge drawings of butcher paper hung up with painters tape. “Holy baby Jesus, is that what I think that is?” Patty stares at the pieces, each adorned with drawings and diagrams of Rowan’s machine. “What the hell,” Abby says, stopping underneath one. “This is not good,” Patty mutters, “Holtzy’s finally lost it.” Each part of it, from the great coils to the generator on the inside transferred on paper and put up. Unreadable handwriting covered any empty space, scrawled about the paper like footprints. “So I see you found my designs,” Holtzmann slides up from behind them, grinning from ear to ear. “Um, I think you mean Rowan’s designs,” Abby retorts, “What in the world is this for?” Holtzmann beckons them over, pointing with two fingers. “This is how I get Erin back.”

Patty stares at her. “Like a zombie? Or like is this one of those Dr. Frankenstien things because I’m not bouta dig her up,” she says, crossing her arms. Holtzmann laughs, and slams a hand onto the paper. “I can bring her back as a ghost,” she says, “Rowan had made these devices for ghosts inside the vortex, right?” Mirrors of all shapes and sizes decorated the page. “So, if I can figure out how to refine that, we get Erin back.” Patty blinks and throws up her hands. “Hell naw I’m not dealing with that,” she says, and looks over the immense collection. “All I need is to summon Erin somehow,” Holtzmann mumbles, and grabs a piece of paper. “I gotta tell you Holtzy, I’m not a fan of summoning the undead,” Patty says, “We deal with them on a daily basis. I might be crazy but I’m not that crazy.” Abby sighs, and grabs Holtzmann’s hand. “Holtzmann, you can’t bring someone back from the dead,” she whispers, taking the pencil. “If I can put a ghost in a box then I can make a ghost a body,” she retorts. The pencil returns to the paper, as Abby and Patty walk away.

Holtzmann hears the hearse pull out, but she just takes another sip of coffee. She frowns, and looks down at a piece of paper on her desk. It’s covered in her handwriting, but not at all about summoning the dead. “Date Ideas,” it reads. She swears at it, and crumples it in her closed fist. “Damn it,” she mumbles, and throws it to the side. She returns her full attention to the mirrors. She rests her head on both index fingers, and sighs. Turning the book on ley lines, she examines the current, and just watches the ideas run through her head.

Behind her, an expo marker on the whiteboard lifts up. It’s shaking and threatens to topple to the floor, but it raises. The words “It won’t work” are writing, lines and beginnings shaken up. The marker falls to the floor with a clack. At the sound, Holtzmann whips around. She stares at the whiteboard, seeing it’s shaky writing and smiles. “Erin,” she says, and runs to the board, “You’re here!” The engineer jumps, legs bouncing and arms flailing in all directions. “Erin!” she shouts, holding up the marker into the air, “Erin?” The floor is silent. She grabs the marker, moving it over to her microscope. Underneath, the writing utensil has nothing but her fingerprints and soot on it. “Erin, come out come out pretty please?” Holtzmann watches the marker, which remains stationary. “I’ve got your marker!” She giggles, half choking with tears. “Erin,” she mumbles, “You forgot your marker.”

Holtzmann settles down in front of the desk, eyes fixated on the marker. Hours tick by as the rest of the firehouse empties, with no movement. “Come on,” she grunts, fiddling with a pair of tweezers. “You have to be here somewhere, I just have to wait.” The only light in the room is from the desk lamp, and Holtzmann swears she can hear her heart beat in her chest.

“OW!” Holtzmann looks up, and surveys the room. There’s no one there, or in the rest of the firehouse. She hesitates, before setting up her phone camera to fixate on the marker. “Hellooo?” she calls into the stairwell, “Anybody home?” Kevin’s smile shines in the first floor. “Holtzmann!” He says, holding his foot in his hands. “You ok Kev?” Holtzmann asks, continuing down the stairs. “Oh yeah lovely. Just pinched my toe in the desk,” he replies. “Now how’d you manage that?” Holtzmann asks, staring at the desk. “Oh, I put my foot in the drawer and then I closed the drawer,” he explains, packing up his things. “Ah delightful man,” Holtzmann says, heading back up the stairs. “What are you doing?” Kevin bounds up the stairs with her, head cocked to the side. “I have a theory,” she says. “Um that’s one of those sorts of table thingies, right?” Kevin asks as they emerge into the second floor. “Sure,” she says as she settles back down in front of the marker. “Hey Kev?” He looks up from inspecting a piece of dark plastic. “Yup boss?” Holtzmann sighs, and says, “Could you watch that marker for me?” Kevin nods, and kneels down in front of the desk. His finger moves toward it. “NOOOOO!” Holtzmann shouts, slappign his hand away, “Don’t touch it.” Kevin huffs, pouting, but returns to his job. “This marker isn’t fun,” he mumbles, and looks up at Holtzmann. “Erin wrote with it,” Holtzmann mutters, watching the footage on her phone. “Erin?” Kevin asks, scratching his nose through his glasses. “Yeah, Erin,” Holtzmann replies. “Oh,” Kevin narrows his eyes at the marker, “Erin, you better come out of there.” Holtzmann sighs and slams her phone down on the desk. “She’s not in there, bud.” Kevin sighs, and gets closer to it. “Marker, you better give her back right now,” he growls, and Holtzmann chuckles. “Oh Kevin, Kevin,” she says, “Erin’s gone, but I’m gonna bring her back.” The secretary beams. “Where did she go?” he asks, and she sighs. “I don’t know.”


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm iffy on this chapter. I can't seem to figure out the right way to describe the vortex machine so hopefully this makes sense.

Upstairs, Holtzmann holds up a piece of torn fabric. “GILBERT,” it reads in stained orange letters, splattered darkened patches peppered across the fabric. The engineer pulls down the magnifiers on her goggles, head inches away from a mess of wire. The solder smokes and burns her nose, as she joins wires and connects them to circuit boards. Sitting on the chair is a pair of tweezers and a small box. Her searching fingers close around the box, and as she brings it to her vision she frowns. “No that’s not what I wanted at all,” she mumbles and puts it back. The soldering iron sears through flux and wire as she continues to outline her device. Behind her, the box remains on the chair.

The clock ticks past, as more pieces are further constructed around the circuits. Antennae protrude toward the ceiling, wired to a small box made of charred metal and welded parts. Sitting on the desk are a pair of electrodes resting over the patch. It wiggles, pulling out further away from the engineer. Holtzmann purses her lips and grabs it. “Ok here we go,” she murmurs, rubbing on the fabric with her thumb. A small door slides away, leaving just enough space for the rolled up badge. “Here we go here we go here we go.” She adjusts several knobs on the top of the device. The room remains devoid of any green mist, ominous light flashes or gusting wind. She frowns, tapping on the top. “Hello? Anybody home?” She picks the device up, examing every crack. “Not what I expected,” she says, pulling open the hatch.

A gust of cold air comes out, brushing her hair back. Inside, the “GILBERT” patch glows with the slightest hint of green light. “It looks like a glowstick,” she cheers with delight, and sets it down. The knobs return to their original places, and the glow fades away. “Successful test of operation,” the engineer says, grabbing the machine, “Pending field test.” She smiles and punches at the air.

Beneath her, Kevin is still working on his perfect ghost and ghostbusters doodle. The green blobs take shape all across the paper while five small stick figures stand in the middle. His phone rings, a default ringtone sounding the firehouse. He picks up and says, “Ghostbusters. Please give a detailed description of your apparition.” A chuckle sounds through the phone. “Kevin baby, it’s me,” a voice replies. The biritsh accent is low, and Kevin smiles. “Stewart!” He says, leaning back into his chair. “Yes, it’s Stewart. I need you to come out to the front,” the caller replies. “Maybe you could come in? I have something cool to show you,” Kevin asks, bouncing his knee propped up on the desk. “If you want,” the voice says with a laugh. Outside, a car locking mechanism chirps. There’s a knock on the door which Kevin almost misses. “Kevin?” The same voice calls through the door, “Kevin, it’s me.” The receptionist stands up and jogs over to the door. “Who is it?” He asks, ear pressed against the door. “It’s Stewart,” the voice huffs. He opens the door, and smiles at the man behind the door. “Oh Stewart! Why didn’t you say so?”

Stewart sighs and steps in, rubbing the arms of his christmas sweater. “We should go soon, it’s getting late,” Stewart says as Kevin drags him through the firehouse. “No you have to see this,” he says, pointing at the cabinet behind his desk, “See?” Stewart raises a skeptical eyebrow and scratches his head. “A wood cabinet?” He asks, looking around the firehouse. “No, look!” Kevin pulls open the door to reveal his homemade jumpsuit. “Kevin, you didn’t get possessed again, right?” Stewart thumbs at the fabric staring with sagging eyes. “No! They made me a real patch!” Kevin grabs the chest, pointing to orange letters spelling “BECKMAN” in all caps. “I see that,” Stewart moves to grab Kevin’s hips, “My ghostbuster.” Kevin smiles and leans down to peck Stewart on the mouth. “Isn’t it awesome?” he asks, wrapping his arms around the shorter man. “It is,” he agrees, and pulls away, “But we should get home. It’s getting quite late and you have work tomorrow.” Kevin nods, scratching his chin. “I don’t suppose you should shut off the lights up there?” Stewart points to the light from the second floor.

“Anyone home?” Stewart calls from behind Kevin. The two take the stairs two at a time and Stewart takes in a sharp gasp at the second floor. A tight bubble builds as he stares at the masses of scrap on the floor. “Oh Holtzmann!” Kevin moves forward, pulling a sleeping blonde off the work desk. “Um...” Stewart blinks, scratching his head, “Who is that?” The taller man smiles, hauling her over his shoulder. “This is Holtzmann,” he says, heading back down the stairs. Stewart rubs his temples and mutters, “Well that’s self explanatory.”

The brunette man runs down the steps. “Kevin!” The other gives no sign of stopping. “Kevin!” Stewart sighs, and unlocks the car. It chirps in greeting, and Kevin opens the back door. “Kevin, are we taking her home?” Stewart pants, leaning his hands against his knees. “Of course,” he replies as he sets her down in the backseat. Her head squashed against her chest and her knees banging against the door, Kevin shuts the car. “Why?” Stewart squeaks, waving his hands in the air. “She could have ghost cooties or something,” he grumbles as he sits down in the driver seat. “She doesn’t have cooties,” Kevin mutters, leaning over to kiss Stewart’s cheek. “She’s a ghostbuster,” He whispers into Stewart’s ear. Stewart rolls his eyes and nods. “I guess she can stay the night,” he concedes, “But she only stays the night.”

The radio switches to some unnameable rap artist as Kevin changes the channel. “Babe?” Stewart peers forward to see the turn, “Number 6, remember?” The blonde gasps, “Oh that one.” Stewart nods, signaling a turn. The car plays a song dripping with quiet vocals and subtle bass lines. Kevin bobs his head along as the three continue along the road with their fellow drivers.

The apartment building is silent as the receptionist side eyes the two. “Good morning Mr. Cambridge,” he says, flipping through his phone. “Morning again Peter,” Stewart waves at the doorman as Kevin walks behind him. Holtzmann’s head lolls around his shoulders from his piggyback. She snorts in her sleep, but doesn’t awaken. The elevator is empty, save for them and a maintenance man. He takes one look at the sleeping engineer and smirks. “Got lucky boys, eh?” He smells like cigarette smoke and sweat. His hair can only make it halfway up his crown, and Stewart wrinkles his nose. “God no,” he mutters under his breath as the two leave the elevator. Kevin frowns and asks, “Did we win the lottery?” Stewart laughs as he fumbles with the keys to the front door. “Not at all Kev, not at all.”

Once inside the apartment, Kevin sets Holtzmann sitting up and unlaces her combat boots. “Kevin, what are you doing?” Stewart sighs, rubbing his eyes. “I’m taking her boots off,” Kevin replies. Stewart’s eyes blink, tinged with red. “Alright,” he groans as he unlaces the other. After, Stewart heads to bed, tossing off his shirt and sweater onto the chair in the family area. Meanwhile Kevin settles Holtzmann down on the couch, head still rolled into her chest. “Kevin, straighten out her head,” he can hear from the room, “She’ll get a neck cramp.”


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok this was written really late at night and I'm super tired but hey I'm going to go see Ghostbusters tomorrow with S so yayayayaya. Anyway, it's atrocious, but enjoy.

Holtzmann’s eyes are foggy as she wakes up. Above her head, a biege ceiling and wood ceiling fan greet her. “Where-” She sits up, taking in the fleece blanket she’s wrapped in and the couch she sits on. The fabric is about to rip in some places, and she can hear legs squeal as she wiggles around. The door to the room is ajar, and she stands up. “HOLTZMANN!” A large wall of muscle confronts her as Kevin squeezes her. She’s reminded of her time spent under the Stay-Puft Man as her nose curls against his chest. “Kevin,” she grunts, pushing him off, “Your muscles are suffocating me.” Stewart stands from his door, watching the two. “Where exactly is this...wonderful...home?” She asks, taking in the duct taped table leg and cabinet with doors missing. “Oh this is my boyfriend, Stewart’s and I’s place,” he replies, taking a bite out of a muffin. “You...have...a...boyfriend?” Holtzmann’s eyes widen, “Like a literal boyfriend who has physical form?” Kevin nods, tossing her a muffin. “That’s Stewart,” he says through a mouthful of bread.

“Stewart would be me,” Stewart sighs, raising his hand from the door frame. Holtzmann’s eyes widen yet again as she takes in the supposed boyfriend. “You’re...tall,” she offers, waving her hands. Stewart gives her a tight lipped smile. “I do hear that sometimes,” he says, scratching his head. His brown hair raises around his head, frizzy ends sticking everywhere. “You’re Holtzmann, right?” He watches her from his door frame as the coffee machine gurgles. “Jillian Holtzmann, radio times,” she says as the two stare at each other. Neither blink as Kevin hands each a cup of coffee. “Thanks Kev,” Holtzmann mumbles. “Don’t forget to make your tea,” Stewart says, taking his coffee in exchange for a kiss on the cheek. “Would never,” Kevin winks as he twirls away. “Stewart Cambridge,” Stewart says, extending a hand to her. When she shakes it, his palm is sweaty. “Jillian Holtzmann,” she murmurs.

The drive to the firehouse, there are three occupants in the car. As Stewart drives, windows rolled up and both hands tight on the wheel. “Could you please stop that,” Stewart asks, refusing to look away from the road. “Nope,” Holtzmann replies, bouncing the car. Kevin switches the radio from rock to pop to country until Stewart changes it at a stoplight. The engineer smiles at the two from the backseat, kicking her feet up onto the console. Stewart scratches his head and continues to drive.

When he drops the two of them off, he grabs Kevin. “She does know that I’m gay right?” He asks as his boyfriend walks away. Kevin spins on his heels to grin at him. “Yep,” he replies, swinging his hat around his hand. Stewart groans and sits down into the driver’s seat. “Kevinnnn,” he sighs and rubs his temples.

Within the firehouse, Abby and Patty are already in their jumpsuits. “Holtzmann let’s go!” Abby waves her hand at her, screaming incoherencies about ghost kindergarteners. “Can’t today Abs, gotta break the scientific understanding of the paranormal,” she calls. Abby glares at her back and turns to Kevin. “I don’t even want to know what you did,” she says as the two ghostbusters pile into the hearse. Patty sighs from the passenger seat, rolling her neck. “I don’t know about you Abby, but I don’t think I can take much more of this,” she says.  
Kevin and Holtzmann are both upstairs. Kevin wanders around, scooping up rubber off the floor. In his hand, a black garbage bag is halfway full of discarded material. “Those superconductors pump thousands of volts,” Holtzmann calls as he grabs blocks of metal. He pouts, withdrawing a hand and continues to gather up globs of rubber. He hums a little as he gathers things up around the lab. It’s still covered in material.

Seven garbage bags full of metal, rubber, and wire later, the second floor is visible. A five foot circle around the engineer is the only remaining spot in the room. “Kev-man,” Holtzmann singsongs as he pulls a wire, dragging the project away. “Sorry,” he says, dropping it and shuffles away. She continues tinkering as he returns downstairs to check on the phones. Abby and Patty still had yet to return, and so far, the vortex machine had undergone four tests. All four had the glow from the patch, and no other manifestations outside of that. Four tests with consistent results had Holtzmann feeling pretty confident in it’s ability.

Kevin pushes at dirt toward the window with a push broom as the machine whirs for the sixth time. Holtzmann switches it off and groans, hands reaching to the sky. Kevin looks up at her and smiles, sweeping dust and nails and screws and plastic into a pile. “How’s your...” he looks at the machine, forehead scrunching, “Thing?” The engineer sighs and kicks her boots up onto the table. “Pretty good, if I don’t say so myself,” she replies, cracking her knuckles. She turns to him, locking blue with blue. “Is that with science,” he asks. “Yes, yes it is,” she says, spinning around her chair. Kevin’s forehead scrunches again as he grabs a dust pan half the size of the pile. “Do I need to do something?” He asks, gathering as much as he can into the pan with his hands. “If anything explodes call Patty or Abby,” she replies. “See you from the other side,” Holtzmann whispers as she places two electrodes on her head.

She can’t focus her attention on any of the sensations other than the pain. She tries to move her hand to rip them off but she can only squeeze her eyes tight. The pain pierces into the side of her head, sending lances of pain between her ears. Her head spins in circles as the jolts of pain continue. Holtzmann clenches her jaw, and she can hear her teeth grinding together. As the pain splits her brain, lurching swings turn into rotations. Her mind spins, and she opens her eyes.

The walls around her are green, swirling with dark clouds. She is falling. Above her, there’s a single hook hanging from a small crack in the void. Goosebumps raise on her arms as she continues to fall. Bringing one to her eye, it flickers beneath her gaze, transparent. The wind blows, tearing her hair out of it’s usual pinned position and all around. As she plummets, the wormhole seems to narrow, threatening to consume her.

Her back hits water. It splashes up, and returns to bury her. She sinks, world getting darker and darker behind her goggles as limbs lag and float. Her suspension takes her deeper, all green light dimming from her view as her eyes close.

The engineer opens her eyes to darkness. Above her, green vapors dive, red eyes piercing into the space. Most of the other figures are slow moving, glowing a faint blue and white. They’re blurry around the edges, some disappearing before her eyes. Others have clear lines as they wander, wearing business suits, hospital gowns. She turns her head, watching the souls wander in the darkness. Below, more green vapors flit while the rest float through. There is no sign of a baggy pair of coveralls, tweed suit or tiny bow-tie.

She kicks her feet, swimming through the material. It weighs on her arms and legs, and she slows down seconds after starting. The engineer continues to struggle through, blue eyes dancing around each spirit. Her eyes droop, and for a moment, her movements stop. Holtzmann blinks, body sinking deeper into the void. Her foot stops, bending her knee upward as her descent slows. She looks down, staring into the head of a young girl. One inch of combat boot imbedded in her head, she continues to drift, taking Holtzmann with her. The engineer drags her foot out, using both arms. As she frees herself, she studies the chasm for a familiar uniform.

Far below her, a soul floats wearing a large backpack, lines still easy to make out. Holtzmann kicks, running through transparent figures to reach it. It wears a ponytail as it winds its way downward. “Erin,” Holtzmann shouts, but the call doesn’t reach her own ears. She flails anew, grabbing fistfuls of spirits to propel herself into the deep. She settles down, staring the ghost in the eyes. Erin’s eyes are lit blue, light radiating from inside her. They stare through Holtzmann as her form continues to float forward. “Erin,” Holtzmann repeats, pedaling backward. “Erin, it’s Holtzy,” she says, waving her hand in front of her face and sticking her tongue out. The water is bitter.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well the story's coming to a close soon my friends watch out whoop whoop. I am very, very tired but the next will be the final chapter. It was fun, look forward to seeing you guys again.

Holtzmann’s hand reaches Erin’s. She can feel Erin’s hand solidifying around hers, and watches her form grow brighter. The light behind Erin’s eyes narrows to meet Holtzmann’s. For a moment, Holtzmann wishes she could cry. Erin, she thinks. She wraps her hand further around, almost able to squeeze and feel her under her palm. Holtz? A voice whispers in her mind, winding it’s way from the back of her head. Erin, you’re beautiful as a ghost, she remarks as she takes in the floating woman in front of her. Holtz, I’m dead, the same voice sounds from inside. Only a little, Holtzmann thinks pulling her closer. Her hand melds a little with Erin’s as she increases the pressure. How exactly did you get here? Erin’s voice is a little louder in her mind as she questions. I transferred my consciousness, she replies, winding her arms around Erin’s waist. That better be safe, Erin grumbles as she bends her head down to rest it on top of Holtzmann’s head. Is anything we do safe? The engineer thinks, leaning her head into the taller woman’s chest. Speaking from personal experience, no, Erin’s voice replies. Holtzmann feels Erin’s body under her arms, becoming more present as they continue. The lab’s quiet without you, she remarks, pressing her head into Erin’s chest. It doesn’t sink through, but her hair does. Like Patty Kevin and Abby aren’t enough noise for you, Erin’s voice scoffs, and she can feel her chest move. They’re not the right kind of noise, Holtzmann replies, Not cute enough anyway. She can feel Erin’s head on hers, and she sighs. She burrows herself further behind Erin’s arms, losing sight of the dark around her. Holtz, Erin’s voice gets quieter, I don’t know how long you can stay here. Holtzmann frowns, and closes her eyes. I don’t know either. Her limbs weigh into the dark, their only anchor being the spirit in her arms. Holtz, I know you like cuddling but I’d rather not have you separated from your body. Erin’s voice is fading from her mind, receding back to where it came from. Erin, I can’t hear you, she thinks, feeling her arms pass through the other. Erin? Holtzmann wonders, spinning around. Just go home, floats through her head, My form is fading. The engineer lets her arms drop. I miss you, she thinks. There is no reply as the void’s occupants continue to drift.

 

She kicks forward, pulling herself upward in the abyss. Green and blue spirits pass, all going their own ways. The water pulls on her limbs, but rays of green light pierce through the mass. There is nothing left but lines of green and red-eyed specters. Her head breaks the surface, and the hurricane of the vortex burns her eyes.

 

She concentrates, eyes searching for the tether in the haze. It hovers above the water, swinging in circles, leaving behind ellipses of fog. Her legs kick again toward through it as a gloved hand reaches for the hook. The metal is cold under her fingers, and it digs into her palm as it soars into the wormhole. The clouds swirl closer as she approaches the light filtering through the crack.

 

Kevin throws his phone into the air as he sits against the desk. Every so often he lifts one of Holtzmann’s eyelids or waves her hand around, but he never leaves. He smiles as she rips the pair of electrodes from her temples. “How was your nap?” He asks, standing up from under the desk. Holtzmann’s knees shake as she switches the device back. “It worked exactly as planned.” Inside, the GILBERT begins to darken, E turning black.

 

It’s dark when Abby and Patty return, holding three ghost traps all spewing fumes. “Ok I’m never going to set foot in another paper factory in my life,” Abby groans. “You’ve been to more than one?” Patty asks, cocking her head. “It was for research,” Abby mumbles as the trap empties. “I hope you got some nice research because that place was creepy as all hell,” Patty replies. “We found a dead raccoon and some nice wires for Holtzmann,” she says over the hissing of the extractor. “Sounds helpful,” Patty remarks, and sits down on the table. The two sigh as Abby retracts the last ghost. “I wonder if Holtzmann had a better day than we did,” Abby wonders. “Knowing Holtzy we should be happy the firehouse hasn’t gone to the other side,” Patty sighs.

 

“Hey, Abby, Patty?” Kevin asks, Holtzmann trailing behind him, “Stewart’s gonna take me home now so goodnight.” Abby and Patty exchange looks as the two blondes exit the building. “Who the hell is Stewart?” Abby asks, and Patty shrugs. “Hell if I know,” she replies as the two make their way to the firehouse beds.

 

Stewart sits in the drivers seat, blue christmas sweater and grey slacks contrasting against Kevin’s pink tie and purple shirt. “Night Holtzmann,” he says, covering a yawn. “Good to see ya again Stew,” she replies, slouching in her seat. “You’re staying the night?” He looks at her through the mirror as they begin the drive. “Yep,” Kevin answers, and his boyfriend nods. “Well we better get home then,” Stewart sighs.

 

The receptionist stares at them again, setting his phone down on the desk. “Mr. Cambridge,” he greets, staring at Holtzmann. “Night, Peter,” Stewart and Kevin call as they wait for the elevator. Holtzmann gives him a lopsided smile and a wave from inside.

 

Their apartment door opens, and the three pile into the hall. Kevin kicks his tennis shoes off somewhere a few feet down the hall as Stewart places his into the closet. Holtzmann follows Kevin’s example as she slides on the hardwood floor with her socks. Stewart groans as he wanders into his room. He grabs a large tee shirt and pair of basketball shorts that he never wears to hand to Holtzmann. “Those are for you,” he says, rubbing his eyes, “I doubt you’d want to sleep in those clothes.” Kevin smiles and pats her on the back. “Stewart washes all his clothes,” he promises. Holtzmann shrugs and replies, “Not the weirdest thing I’ve been offered in my life.” The couple nods and Stewart trudges back into the bedroom. “It’s too late for this,” he mumbles as he pulls on a pair of pajama pants.

 

Holtzmann raises an eyebrow at Kevin. “He seems tired,” she says. “He works hard,” Kevin explains, “He does money things for people.” Holtzmann’s eyes widen, and she asks where the bathroom is. “Oh it’s that one,” he says, pointing toward the door next to the kitchen counter. “Thanks,” Holtzmann says, and walks in. Her reflection in the mirror has dark circles under it’s eyes. She huffs, running a hand through her hair, taking pins out to let it down. With the pins come massive chunks of curly blonde hair. When she emerges, Kevin’s gone and the same pillow and fleece blanket are sitting on the couch. The couch is comfortable from years of sitting, and she falls asleep as soon as she closes her eyes.

 

The next morning, Stewart shakes her awake and hands her a cup of coffee. “The sugar’s in the tin marked sugar and the creamer’s in the kitchen,” he says, sipping from a cup of his own. Holtzmann stares into the depth of her cup and takes a gulp. From the kitchen, Kevin eats a bowl of cereal and sips from a glass of orange juice. Stewart’s assorted papers and laptop are still sitting on the table. “We have work, right?” Holtzmann asks. “It’s a Saturday,” Stewart replies, hair mussed and shirt twisted. “It is?” Holtzmann reflects, noting Kevin’s pajama pants and muscle tee. “Means we get to stay home today,” Kevin replies, approaching her with a bowl of the same cereal he was eating. She takes a bite of the brown grain and stares at Kevin. “Coca Puffs?” She asks through a mouthful. He smiles at her and continues to chew. “So what are we doing this weekend,” Stewart asks, and Kevin shrugs.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys it was a wonderful ride. Thanks for reading, and I hope your day is as beautiful as you are.  
> ~E

Holtzmann spends her weekend with Kevin and Stewart, eating takeout and running errands. She feels a bit put off, the three of them wandering around buying groceries. The weekend passes, and Stewart is yet again driving them to the firehouse, eyes on the road. He drops them off, letting them exit and leaves once they enter.

 

Abby and Patty are asleep on the floor. Abby’s glasses sit four feet away from her prone form. Her cheek mashes against the concrete, Patty in a similar position, only face down. Holtzmann and Kevin stare at them for a moment before shaking them awake. “Abby, wakey wakey wakeup time,” Holtzmann sings as her friend’s eyes focus. “Holtzmann, wha-” Abby yawns, sitting up. Kevin pokes at Patty’s shoulder with a pencil, peering at her closed eyes. “She’s dead,” he says, and Abby sighs. She shoves at Patty’s shoulder, waking her up. “I fell asleep here?” She asks, staring around her. “You and me both,” Abby remarks, dusting off her coveralls.

 

As soon as they’re both up, Holtzmann and Kevin disappear upstairs. “Kevin, if something explodes, call Patty and Abby,” she says. One hand places electrodes on her temples. Her other fiddles with a box, which she rests down on her lap as she leans back into the chair. “What?” Kevin asks, but she’s already gone. He sighs and reclaims his broom. He sweeps from corner to corner, finding strands of hair throughout the room.

 

Holtzmann stares beneath her as she plunges through the wormhole. Her hair waves around, coming free of it’s pins as she hits the water head first. The momentum carries her downward, past diving ghouls. As she slows down, she claws herself along, searching for the ghost in coveralls with a backpack. The darkness suffocates her as she continues deeper into the void.

 

In the firehouse, Kevin sweeps, avoiding the area where the engineer was working. Within the machine, the darkening area bleeds black through the lettering. Kevin frowns, looking at the device. He shrugs and wanders off in search of a garbage bag. He doesn’t notice the hair fallen at Holtzmann’s feet.

 

The faded figures swirl past her as she catches sight of her ghost. Erin stares face up, eyes staring up toward the green spectres. Holtzmann’s arms groan as she renews her struggle toward the blue form. The darkness drags her down into the deep, but she latches hold onto Erin’s hand. It drags the both of them down, a current pushing her downward. Above, fluttering robes become dots and the two are alone. As the force tows them lower, Erin’s head turns to look at her. Holtz, I told you to go home Erin’s voice comes through Holtzmann’s mind. It’s more fun down here she thinks, pulling Erin’s hand. It’s fun here, with Mr. Dead and Mrs. Ghost? Erin’s voice asks. You know it. Holtzmann’s chest bumps into Erin’s back. Her fingers fumble to toss the equipement off. It arches downward, blue glow fading. She leans her chin over her shoulder, waggling her eyebrows at the taller. World’s no fun without someone to share it with, she thinks, feeling the current push at her back. Looks like we’re going up, Erin’s voice echoes in her head. Must be, Holtzmann replies, grabbing Erin’s left hand to bring to her stomach. We are spooning in the underworld. Erin’s voice sounds hysterical while the shapes above them adopt legs and arms. Holtzmann doesn’t respond, only feels Erin’s body materialize. Her fingers still pass through just a little.

 

Back in the firehouse, Kevin’s nose wrinkles. Wisps of smoke come through the door of the vortex device, and he walks over to wave it clear. After a few swipes, the smoke continues to seep through the cracks, which makes him frown. He pokes at it, to no effect. Kevin crosses the room and heads downstairs, going halfway down. On the first floor, Abby and Patty are asleep on their desks. He bounces down, and taps Abby’s shoulder. She groans and turns over. “Kevin, if it’s Benny tell him he’s not getting tipped,” she says, waving him away. “Um, Holtzmann told me to tell you if there was fire,” he says, pointing a thumb towards the stairs. Patty shakes her head, eyes widening. “There’s a fire up there?” Abby asks, and Kevin nods. “Well there’s black stuff coming out so...yes,” he says. Abby’s eyes jolt open and the two ghostbusters rush to their feet. “We gotta go get Holtzy,” Patty says, and bolts toward the stairs. Abby follows, tailed by Kevin.

 

In the void, Erin’s form begins to slip through Holtzmann’s. Can’t you stay any longer? Holtzmann wonders as she feels Erin lighten in her arms. I’m not the boss Erin’s voice grumbles, deep in the crevices of Holtzmann’s mind. Holtzmann cries with empty arms as the last blue snuffs out. Her eyes sting as she makes her way upward again, eyes set on the wavering light above.

 

Patty and Abby burst upstairs, searching the room for the source of the fire. “Holtzmann!” Abby shouts, running over to the body in the chair. Patty grabs her by the shoulders, shaking so hard a wad of hair falls out. “What the hell?” She grabs the fistful sitting on Holtzmann’s lap, shaking it at Abby. “Last time I checked, Holtzmann had a full head of hair,” she says, continuing to shake her. Her heart beats in her chest as she watches the slack face of her friend. “Let me see if I can get this machine off,” Abby says, hands hovering over the dials. Fingers shaking, she examines it. Kevin stands back, eyes wide.

 

When her head breaks the surface, Holtzmann whips her head around. The cable reaches over the waters, pendulum movements tearing through the mist. Her legs struggle to kick out while she approaches the tether. Her hands grab onto it, and she tugs, bringing her legs to her chest.

 

The smoke billows out of the machine as Patty begins to tap Holtzmann on both cheeks. “Holtzy, you better quit it or Imma slap you into the next world,” Patty threatens. Abby places a finger on one of the dials, eyes flitting around the room. She struggles to breathe, a bubble forming in her chest. “ABBY DO THE THING!” Patty shrieks, slapping Holtzmann across the face. Aside from lolling her head to the side and emitting a sickening slap, nothing happens. “I don’t know what this is!” Abby shouts back, grabbing a fistful of her hair. “JUST DO SOMETHING!” Patty slaps Holtzmann again, with no result. “CAUSE SLAPPING’S NOT CUTTING IT!”

 

Holtzmann’s body shakes, hovering over the green water by an inch. Her body approaches the water. “No, no, no” she groans, shaking on the chord. It waves above her. Within the muted sounds of the wormhole, there’s a distorted crack. She falls into the water on her back, watching the line fall away. “Shit,” she mutters as the water around her splashes, the rest of her tether hitting the water.

 

The machine jumps, flames consuming the metal. “It’s not supposed to do that,” Kevin says, pointing toward the burning instrument. “No duh!” Patty yells, grabbing the fire extinguisher from under the desk. “Holtz,” Abby slaps at her cheeks. They’re pale, chalky white, the same color as the powder in the fire extinguisher. Abby’s heart echoes in her ears while Patty rips off the safety door on the box. The nametag inside is black, some spots burned away. “What in the hell,” Patty stares at the piece of fabric in her hand, patting away smoldering edges. Abby shakes Holtzmann again, hauling her half out of the chair. “Holtzmann,” she says as her friend’s head rolls back and forth. “You better come back,” she grits out, holding her up. Patty roars, throwing the hunk of metal down the floor. Her hands move to her head as pressure builds in her chest.

 

Holtzmann’s eyes are wide open, staring at the fading light. The hook follows her descent, fading away in the world of spirits. She can feel her body sinking, traces the paths of wandering shapes in the dark. The water is bitter against her open tongue.


End file.
